


Catfishing

by Somemusings



Category: South Park
Genre: Emotional Manipulation, Eric Cartman Being An Asshole, Kyle has issues, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-10
Updated: 2018-07-10
Packaged: 2019-06-08 13:23:14
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,197
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15244323
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Somemusings/pseuds/Somemusings
Summary: Kyle's plans for a perfect Valentine's Day involve no people and the bar.What could possibly ruin this?Apparently the answer is Cartman





	Catfishing

**Author's Note:**

> For the longest time I actually forgot about this work. It was written for a Kyle/Cartman Secret Valentine event but sadly the account deleted themselves and with that the name I received.
> 
> I just really wanted to thank my beta Emily for helping me with this piece. I swear half the work was done by her.

It just wasn’t his thing, that’s all, Kyle thought as he watched the alcohol splash into his glass. He told himself that this attitude wasn’t rooted in his usual cynicality but rather in his pragmatism. After all, most of these holidays might have had an actual message in the past. But those days were long past and had been replaced with Taylor-Lautner-in-a-romantic-comedy and cheap heart-shaped chocolate offered in masses.

Valentine’s Day, as far as he remembered, was named due to a saint called Valentine who secretly married soldiers, who were forbidden from doing it. The message of this was as clear as anything and Kyle accepted that. However, he didn’t understand why Valentine’s day had to evolve into a cash profiting holiday. All it did was give businesses a spike in chocolate, teddy bear, and rose bouquet sales and act as a slap in the face for all those losers who had reached the age of 25 and were still not married. 

That’s why Kyle was sitting at a bar on Valentine’s day telling himself that it was perfectly fine to still be single at 27. 

He downed whatever it was the bartender has just poured him in one swift go.

And it was not for the lack of trying, he had after all pursued several relationships. 

His longest, which lasted through his last year in college and two years after it, had ended about six months ago. It was a quiet affair not like the explosive ones one would expect. They went out with a whisper, both parties mutually agreeing because they barely saw each other and could not say that they still knew the other. Still it was able to hurt Kyle enough for him to move back to South Park to lick his wounds. 

His lack of will to fight against the breakup did not stop the lost dreams of marrying the girl from swirling, tauntingly in his head. On the outside they could have been the perfect couple. Both had successful careers; a lawyer and a doctor. They were both Jewish and their families have loved them both as a couple and as individuals, spending every major holiday together and insisting the other be brought when one visited. Kyle still thought that the breakup might have been harder for his mother than for him. 

But being successful came with a prize. Long hours and being available 24 hours a day had taken a toll on their relationship. Cynthia was ready to take on fewer shifts and holiday days. Kyle remembered that day he came home and Cynthia asking to choose between her and his work. She was tired of waiting for their life to start- of course she was- and looking back he could see the way her perfect smile fell as he chose his work over her.

It had always been his work. 

When they broke up Kyle noticed he was alone more often than not, and that whenever he tried to think of someone he could call up, he had to stop himself. His whole friend circle consisted of Cynthia’s friends. He would be better to stay out of that realm completely.

So, there he was in a city he only moved to because Cynthia needed to be near the hospital with no apartment, no friends and a job that clearly demanded too much out of him.

Then something in him snapped. It was time for a change- a drastic step towards something remotely real. He quit his job and moved back to his hometown. For the last three years Kyle had been stuck in a boring routine that consisted of his work and a few hours he spent with his girlfriend. But that was no more-it was a new day for him. That’s why he made the decision to move back to the place he last felt happy at.

...and was now alone at a bar on Valentine’s day not exactly sad, but definitely not feeling happy.

But there were the little victories, of course- the aspect of having no friends in his life had drastically changed. He had reconciled with his childhood friends who have not moved away from South Park. 

Kenny had never gone to a big college, but because he took on a part time job he was able to afford a community college. Now, he worked in the South Park hospital as a nurse. His smartest move however had been cutting off the ties to everyone in his family except for his little sister, who visited him every so often.

Stan was beginning to start his own family. He married Wendy after finishing his bachelor ‘s at the University of Texas. She was now five months pregnant. 

Both had been ecstatic when he returned to their hometown, welcoming him with open arms and a lot of excited yelling. 

There was one person that he had not seen yet in all the six months since he had returned to South Park 

Cartman. 

Granted South Park is a small town and he hadn’t been exactly outgoing since returning except for some drinks with Kenny and Stan and the occasional Tinder date that have consistently ended with Kyle either finding an excuse to end the date earlier or an awkward hug that he barely reciprocated. 

The one-time Kyle mentioned Cartman to Stan and Kenny, they told him that he seemed to be doing well with his own firm but admitted that contact was limited to the awkward hand waves they offered on the streets before carrying on with their own lives. Kyle had slowly sipped his drink, carefully redirecting the conversation so they would leave the subject alone. Cartman was doing well. Great. But they hadn’t had the best track record and it would probably be best to leave those bridges burned. 

Three months after he moved back, Kyle decided that he should start dating again. Both Stan and Kenny had been encouraging him, showing him new dating apps and giving him tips to get back into the scene. Most of the dates have been flops, but Kyle saw a silver lining in the lack of batshit crazy girls, which seemed to happen a lot, according to YouTube.

As he sat at the bar he began to regret not accepting the offer he had received on Tinder two days ago. The girl had been a petite blonde with a strong “I need to be married before I turn 30” vibe, but at least she was cute. The last thing Kyle wanted was to be pressured into a marriage.

That’s why instead of sending her a quick text message asking her out on a spontaneous date, he ordered another Bourbon.

Just as he was picking up his drink he noticed a voice that he hadn’t heard in almost 9 years.

“Well, if that isn’t the local Jew drinking alone at the bar on Valentine’s Day. Color me surprised.”

As Kyle turned around he saw how the last years had treated Cartman. He had grown quite a bit and did not look obese anymore. Nobody would call him skinny, but one would describe him more as muscular and a little chubby than straight out fat. He’d abandoned his old fashion style in favor of a white shirt and black jeans. Although Kyle did not see Cartman every day, with his clothes and slicked back hair it looked like he was ready for a date and looked-dare he say-quite attractive. 

No matter the new looks Cartman had acquired, Kyle was less than impressed about their reunion. Leave it to Cartman to start their first meeting in nine years with an anti-sematic comment. 

“Right back at you, fatass.” He snapped, surprised at his own tone and the sheer speed at which he had resorted to petty name-calling. It had been so easy though, slipping back into the old rhythms. Others would’ve thought Kyle was better than that. Heck, Kyle thought he was better than that. But this was Cartman, and all the rules went off the table when it came to him.

Much to his surprise Cartman did not whine about his comment like he would have done in elementary school, but instead merely laughed and even more surprisingly joined him at the bar.

Maybe Kyle was wrong and Cartman has changed in more aspects than his appearance. 

“Don’t put us on the same level, Jew. My date simply canceled due to a sinus infection and I read the message right before arriving at the bar. And because I have no other plans, counting on getting laid tonight, I came in for a quick drink maybe hoping for a desperate soul who had one too many drinks.”

Nope, Kyle was wrong. Eric Cartman is the same piece of shit he has always been. 

“Sure, a ‘sinus infection’. Sounds like something I would come up with if I wanted to get out of a date.” He smiled making air-quotes with his fingers. 

In response to his accusation, Cartman simply gave off a scoff.

 

“Considering they asked me out, I highly doubt that.”

“Surely an act of momentary insanity they later came to regret.”

“Tell yourself whatever you need to sleep at night, Kahl. But not everybody is as unappealing to resort to drinking alone on Valentine’s day.”

Although his words were quite harsh, his tone was much more teasing than malicious. 

And because he was only teasing, Kyle decided against telling Cartman to fuck off. He had to admit he enjoyed their conversation. It certainly beat drinking alone.

Then again anything beat drinking alone...

Before Kyle had the chance to retaliate, he got a strange feeling in his stomach. He went to stand up, but a shock of nausea rocketed through him, making it worse. Deciding he had one too many drinks, he left the bar and went to the bathroom only giving Cartman a short “I need to pee” excuse before leaving for the bathroom. 

Kyle propped his hands on the sink, splashing some water on his face. He had done this before, but he wasn’t a spry 20-year-old anymore. This wasn’t any way for a 27-year-old adult to be. Once the urge to puke died down he decided it would be safe to leave the bathroom. It would also be a wise choice to leave the bar altogether. He obviously had enough to drink. 

Surprisingly he did not like the thought of leaving. He was enjoying his time with Cartman. 

Trying to check the time, he realized that he must have left his phone at the bar. Kyle grumbled. He wouldn’t be the least bit surprised if Cartman had made a run with it to sell it online for pocket change. But as he arrived at the bar his phone was just where he left it. He eyed it suspiciously for a moment, but his stomach made a noise that told him it was time to go. 

“Well, I think it is for the best if I leave now”, Kyle announced.

Cartman just gave him a mocking smile. 

“Considering you look like a fucking shit show I completely understand.”

Before Kyle was able to reply Cartman was already leaving the bar. Without looking back, he just said.

“This was fun, Kahl. We should repeat it another time.”

Then he was gone.

 

Kyle was quite proud of himself. When he arrived at home he did not have another drink. Instead he knocked out on his bed, fully clothed. When he woke up the next day his only reminder of last the night consisted of a light hammering in his head. 

But in between the booze and the memories of Cynthia, he had learnt something that night. Sitting alone on Valentine’s day and drinking his sorrows away was not the solution. He would have try much harder when it came to dating if he wanted to finally find himself a sincere relationship.

Pulling out his phone, he opened Tinder and even considered writing the cute blonde.

He went through some profiles and found himself swiping mostly left. There were tons of profiles with pretty girls, but after skimming through more descriptions than he could remember, there were none that really piqued his interest. Their hobbies and goals were different from his, which left him with virtually no options. He already wanted to reprimand himself for having too exacting standards, when he saw a picture of a young, attractive guy.

The picture showed that he had brown hair with a tint of red in it and his body seemed quite lanky but toned.

Kyle stared blankly, a slight smile pulling over his face. 

This could be good. 

In his early college days, he experimented quite a bit with guys and now identified as bisexual. It had started in highschool but for the most part he told himself that the crush he had on Stan was purely a platonic friend thing.

After meeting Cynthia, he was fully committed to their relationship and hadn’t had eyes for anyone else. But now that that was over, he had options. Both male and female option. Previously, he had not thought that the gay side of South Park had many potential candidates to offer when it came to dating potential. It mostly consisted of Mr. Slave, Big Al and his former elementary teacher Mr. Garrison, who weren’t the most eligible bachelors, to say the least. 

After having decided to swipe right, he finally got ready for work. Having a hangover because he got wasted over his relationship status wasn’t exactly a suitable excuse for work.

It was an hour before he could clock out when his phone buzzed with the tell-tale tone. Kyle’s face flushed; he knew he couldn’t check the match now, but the burst of excitement was almost too much. But he was in work. He had to stay calm. Kyle looked around to check if anyone else had noticed his small outburst, then shrunk back down. Once he moved back to South Park his parents had insisted that he would have to look for a new job right away. His dad had taken it on himself to organize a job interview for Kyle at an insurance company where he himself had worked at some years ago. He aced the interview and got the job right away. Kyle tried not to dwell on how lucky he was to receive a job so easily, especially because he hadn’t thought about the future when he quit his old job.

The job was perfectly boring, but it guaranteed him a nice, steady income and came with shorter and scheduled hours, which his old job did not provide.

The message was attached to a small picture of none other than the handsome guy Kyle had accepted on Tinder that morning. Apparently, the stranger deemed him attractive enough to reciprocate the acceptation.

He wrote back a simple Hi.

Kyle had to admit he was not on top of his flirting game. Not that this has ever been the case.

I was surprised to find a guy like you on Tinder still on the market. Someone like you must be drowning in requests.

Kyle had to fight off a smile from forming on his face. Sure, he had been called cute by several people (most insistently his mother) before, but he had never received such a strong compliment.

He wrote back a simple Thanks.

He was aware that it was his turn to write a question or send a compliment back. Before he was able to write something, he received another text message. 

Your looks probably make up for the seeming lack of intelligence if your eloquent writing is anything to go by

Of all the answers Kyle had thought of, this was not one of them. With a gaping mouth he stared at his phone making his way to his car and almost running into a street light.

After his shock turned into simmering anger, he decided to give Tinder Guy a piece of his mind. 

Wow you really know how to get a guy into your bed, huh

I am just glad that it worked on you. You seem like the person who would enjoy some humiliation in bed ;)

Kyle who had arrived at his car before receiving the text was now able to drive off home and enjoy the rest of his free day on his couch watching TV. But he was never one to back down. So instead of starting the 30-minute drive back home, he immediately wrote back. Showing any hesitance would be a sign of weakness, and if there was one thing he wasn’t, it was weak. 

Wouldn’t you like to know?

For some reason I believe it won’t be long before I do 

Kyle could feel his face getting red.

Dream on.

Upset over his weak retort he awaited a response from the stranger, but it never came.

After waiting for another five minutes, Kyle drove off home.

The next day he received the message after he was already finished with work and home.

We should go on a date.

Kyle was too baffled by the stranger’s confidence to be angry at first. But then he realized the audacity this guy must have. 

You must be crazy if you think I will go out with you after the things you said to me yesterday

First it can’t have bothered you that much considering you haven’t blocked me.

Kyle was surprised that he had not thought about that option with how much the Tinder guy had annoyed him yesterday. Before he could dwell on that, he received another message.

And secondly this conversation probably was the highlight of your day, so imagine what a date could do for the sand in your vagina.

Kyle frowned, mulling over the words he’d just read. It was true that his day had been the same as every other until the Tinder guy had contacted him. Instead of preparing a meal and then watching some Netflix, he had spent his evening thinking about better retorts he could have sent the stranger. So, he decided against telling him to fuck off.

Why would you even want to go out with me. All you did yesterday was insult me?

It was one of the questions that irked Kyle since he had received the text.

Although your retorts were lukewarm at best, I still rarely meet people who can keep up 

Kyle felt torn about his decision. On one hand-and it hurt him to admit it-he found the stranger charming. He kept him on his toes which was a rare and appreciated accomplishment. On the other hand, the guy was a major asshole.

He left the message on ‘read’ knowing the stranger could see it, then responded some time later.

I’ll think about it

He closed the app and smiled nervously to himself. The stranger would respond, but there was no point in waiting around. He might as well try to get out of his little bubble. Kyle picked up the phone and called Stan. They were overdue for a night out anyway.

When he arrived at the bar, Kenny had already secured a table. Kyle sat down and ordered beer for the three of them.

“So, how was your Valentine’s day Kenny? Any dates?”

“Nope, I had two eight-hour shifts at the hospital. But an elderly woman gave me a peck on the cheek after bringing her some extra blankets.” Kenny laughed, clearly tired but also happy to be off and at among friends. 

A smile formed on Kyle’s lips. “Wow, Kenny, ever the Womanizer.”

“What about you Mr. Broflovski. Did you secure any hot dates?”

Kyle remembered the message he sent, and how he hadn’t checked since. There was a certain temptation to see what kind of rise he’d gotten out of the stranger, but that wasn’t the priority right now. He came here to forget about him, but maybe some advice would be able to help him.

“There’s this guy that messaged me on Tinder and he recently asked me out on a date.”

Kenny frowned at this. “I don’t see the problem. Just go out with him and stay in public, so he won’t get the chance to gut you open and sell your organs on the black market. Trust me- been there done that.”

Deciding to ignore the Kenny’s usual reference to death, Kyle elaborated.

“This guy has been so weird in his approach. Half the time he compliments me, the other half he spends insulting me. It’s just confusing. “

“But you enjoy the back and forth, right?”

Sighing Kyle just gave out a quiet “Yeah.”

Putting his arm forward, Kenny made the ‘give it’ motion with his hands, beckoning to see what the mystery man looked like. Kyle handed over his phone.

“I admit the guy is cute, but Gary Smith? The name definitely reeks of catfish even if his behavior doesn’t.”

“Nah, I already had dates with girls who put in fake pictures. They behaved differently.”

“If you say so, Kyle, but it’s you who wanted my advice.”

“You’re right Kenny, and I-“ Before Kyle could finish his sentence, he was interrupted by Stan who joined their table.

“Sorry for being late guys. Was stopping in Denver and the traffic sucked. Anything I missed?”

“Nothing interesting. Just Kyle’s love drama.”

Kyle wanted to protest, but Stan cut him off with a smile and a light punch in the arm. 

“Congratulations Kyle, I knew you still had in you.”

He did a double take because really Stan? Really? “What do you mean? I’ve been dating girls for the past few months.”

“I know you did, but you didn’t seem genuinely excited. It seemed more like a task you did out of necessity. “

Kyle went to object yet stopped. It was true that he had not been invested in any of the dates, but whenever he thought about that, he chalked it up to the fact that he was not over Cynthia. Maybe it was not her holding him back.

“That’s enough of that. I came here to have fun and drink with my friends.” Kyle announced before he chucked down a big gulp of his drink.

Stan and Kenny just exchanged a look before they sipped on their own drinks.

 

Kyle arrived drunk at his apartment for the second time this week. 

Damn, I should really stop with that before it gets out of hand.

Even during the time after his break up with Cynthia, he only got wasted on his Saturdays. At least he did not have work the next day.

Have you decided yet?

Wow, the guy could not have worse timing. Kyle got even more confronting when drunk, and like hell was he going to keep skirting around this guy.

Nope, but my friend says I should got out with you. Though he warned me that I should make sure you’re not a serial killer and/or catfish.

Well, you seem to surround yourself with people smarter than you. So, when would like to meet?

The all-familiar anger rose in Kyle again. Because just who did this guy think he was. 

I didn’t say yes.

Oh, come on Kyle quit playing games. What is even keeping you from going out with me?

Besides you being a major asshole?

We all have our faults Kyle. You for example are a ginger and according to your profile you’re Jewish. These are all flaws I will have to overlook

At this point Kyle was almost overboiling with anger.

You can add anti-Semitic to the list of reasons. And you’re a ginger yourself

Kyle wrote remembering that the stranger’s hair had a tint of red in it. Of course, that did not make him a ginger, but Kyle lacked the freckles to be called a ginger too.

I’ve also been Jewish at one point in my life. See we can work on our flaws together

If you think being Jewish and a ginger are my biggest flaws, we might not be a good fit anyway

If morning came and he regretted his words, he could blame his alcohol-clouded mind. It had been something he had wanted to let out for quite some time now.

You may claim that I’m interesting, but the truth is that I’m just a boring lawyer with slight alcohol issues, whose most exiting days he spent in elementary school and who only stayed in his first and only relationship because it felt familiar

Kyle hit the “send” button before he could decide otherwise. And with each passing second the stranger did not reply, he regretted it more and more.

Wow, you’re a Jewish lawyer. How cliché can you be

Kyle was not even surprised anymore. The stranger never responded the way most people would. Not that most people would respond in the first place. They would have a blocked him the minute they read the text.

We all have our packages. For example, I’ve been in love with the same person since forever and have only dated guys who resembled him in one way or another. But we can’t just always dwell in the past. If you wish to live your life differently you can’t let yourself be stuck because it’s the safest way. You have to stop seeing yourself as the victim and take matters into your own hands.

Kyle knew this. It was just painful to start anew again.

Didn’t know you had it in you to be so philosophical

My Chinese order came with some fortune cookies 

Kyle laughed, the loudness barking out against the quiet of the night. The risk would be worth it- it had to be. There was a real chance he could find actual happiness with this guy.

Yes

Yes what?

Yes, I will go on a date with you

I don’t know if you’re saying this because you’re probably drunk, but you don’t get to take it back

I’ll text you in the morning and the answer will be the same

Like I said it doesn’t matter

He had to roll his eyes at the message, but before he could reply.

Goodnight, Kyle

Goodnight

And he fell asleep with a smile on his face.

 

The next morning Kyle woke up with no regret sitting in his stomach. Usually all his alcohol-influenced decisions were laced with a mixture of remorse and embarrassment.

His eyes caught the time on his alarm clock showing him that it was almost one a.m. Jesus, he has not slept that much in a long time.

Fuck, he had promised his date that he would write him back the next morning. 

Grabbing his phone, he noticed that his notifications were full of messages.

He had one from Stan and two from Kenny making sure he had gotten home in one piece. After responding that he was fine he opened his Tinder app where Gary had bombarded him with messages.

So, have you changed your mind?

We should plan where we could go

I know this Mexican restaurant

It’s supposed to be better than Casa Bonita (although I seriously doubt that)

Come on Kyle, you couldn’t have been that drunk

Kyle?

Don’t be a sneaky Jew

We will have a date no matter what

Even if that means that I must track you down

I will make dinner in your kitchen while you call the cops

Come on Kyle 

Don’t think I won’t do it

Kyyyleeeee

At this point Kyle was practically rolling on the floor laughing, his stomach beginning to hurt.

I’m still saying ‘yes’, just because I’m not in the mood to file a restraining order

Took you long enough. How about seven tonight?

Perfect 

Kyle looked at his wrist watch.

Five hours. 

He’d be lying if he said he wasn’t genuinely looking forward to his date. He was in such a good mood that when his mother asked him to drive all the way to Denver to deliver a package to an old friend of hers, he hopped in and went. His mother had eyed him for a moment before sending him on his way, wondering what in the world warranted such a wide smile. 

Once in Denver he visited the mall to look for a new outfit. On the drive over, he’d been thinking about what he wanted to wear when it dawned on him that his whole wardrobe was rather unimpressive hence the spontaneous shopping spree. After he found a nice outfit, he stopped at a café to get the caffeine he’d been craving before the long trip back. 

Kyle felt slightly embarrassed, carrying all those shopping bags. He behaved like a school girl who finally got a date with their crush. Hell, the last time he was nervous before a date, was his first one with Cynthia, and even then—

Kyle came to an abrupt halt. 

A familiar face sat at one of the tables. 

Gary was mindlessly typing on his phone while sipping on his coffee. His hair seemed more brownish than on the picture and he had a slight stubble. The picture on his profile must have been older. He did not seem to have noticed Kyle yet.

Debating on greeting him, Kyle thought about how he looked after the long car drive and that with them meeting later he still had a few hours to prepare himself. 

Shaking his head, he reprimanded himself for his thoughts and approached the table.

“Hi there!”

At the sudden noise, Gary averted his gaze from his phone and was now looking at Kyle.

“Oh... hi...?” Gary responded after blinking a few times, getting adjusted to the sudden intrusion. 

“I know we were supposed to meet this evening, but seeing you here seemed like a sign or something like that.”

Kyle laughed quietly to hide his awkwardness. 

’A sign’ really? Was that really the best he had? God... Could he sound any cheesier?

But instead of Gary ripping on him like Kyle would have expected based on their previous conversations, a frown appeared on Gary’s face.

“What do you mean ‘meet this evening’?”

 

Kyle took a step back, confused. Unless this guy had suddenly developed Alzheimer’s, something was wrong. 

“You know our date at the Mexican restaurant? It’s supposed to be today”.

“Sorry but do I know you?”

Kyle could feel the heat rising in this his checks. This was humiliating beyond belief. 

Suddenly he remembered Kenny’s warning that his admirer might be a catfish.

Without hesitation Kyle unlocked his phone and opened the Tinder App. Than he held the phone fractions before Gary’s face.

Slowly Gary took the phone out of Kyle’s hands and held it a respectable length before his face. He was much more relaxed; the exact opposite of Kyle, who was praying that this all was just a big misunderstanding.

That Gary would say something like “Oh Kyle it’s you? You look so different from your picture”. That the first person he had liked in a while was not just a scam.

Instead Gary took one look at the picture and said, “That’s not me. Someone is using my picture without my permission. I don’t have a Tinder.”

Kyle felt his heart sink into his stomach, his vision spinning as his processed what he was hearing. Before he could concentrate on the feeling, Gary continued.

“The weird thing is I don’t even have this picture saved, because my ex-boyfriend took it.”

Kyle stopped. He told himself not to pry- it was none of his business who had been involved in this stranger’s life. He shouldn’t care about the stranger who had lied to him. He should just report the profile and move on with his life.

Instead he leaned in and quietly asked, “What’s your ex-boyfriend’s name?”

“Eric Cartman.”

“But I don’t know if Eric is really the one using it,” Gary continued, unable to sense his turmoil,” maybe he posted it somewhere and somebody else uses it now.”

Kyle wasn’t listening. Sure, he could hear Gary talking, but it felt lost in the ambient rumble of the cafe. In fact, the noise around him seemed dimed and his vision was becoming blurry. Bile rose up his throat and Kyle just wanted to turn his head off. To go back to before this mess, before he’d gotten his hopes up on a lie, before he had gotten on that stupid dating app, before he’d come back to South Park. 

“I’m sorry that this guy tricked you and-“

Kyle is already through the door before Gary can finish his sentence.

 

He’s been sitting in his car for about 30 minutes, not entirely sure how he got there but assuming his legs sprinted him there on autopilot. He’s not even thinking, staring blankly at nothing and concerning more than one person as the words echo in his ears. While he fumbled with his keys to open the car, his urge to puke became greater resulting in him scrambling to barf in the nearest bushes. Once his breakfast left his stomach, he opened his car door and wanted nothing more than to drive away and leave all this behind.

There was nowhere to escape to though- he knew that. God… how could he have been so stupid, to believe that something this good could be real. All the shame and humiliation hit him at once and tears streamed down his face as he punched the console. 

“You fucking bastard! Are you happy now! Is this what you wanted!” Kyle screamed.  
Time slowed down around him until Kyle realized a mother standing nearby, angrily staring at him while covering her son’s ears with her hands. 

...which probably meant a lot of other people could hear him too…. 

Whatever. He was entitled to his anger after what he discovered.

He locked eyes with the woman, silently telling her to move along and ignore him. This did not help so much as end with a two-minute staring contest, as the mother did not stop and instead of backing off or even apologizing like he would under normal circumstances, Kyle had to honk at her to get her attention. She jumped at the sudden noise and after giving him one last death glare left the parking lot.

Kyle let out a sigh of relief, leaning his head against the headrest.

Was this what his life had come to? Pissing matches with soccer moms?

The whole argument had been a nice distraction though. It had drained the pain out of him and Kyle started to wipe the remaining tears and snot off his face. Checking himself on the rearview mirror, he noticed how awful he looked; like a tornado had just rolled through his car and carried him off for a minute before plopping him back down. His eyes were red and puffy from all the crying and his hair out of control from beating the crap out of his car.

Deciding that he still was not in the condition to drive again his thoughts began to drift to Gary. 

No... not Gary…

Cartman.

He had absolutely no doubt that the fatass was behind all of this. In fact, when he looked back on all the conversations he had with Gary on Tinder, the speech pattern fit him perfectly. 

He remembered how it had happened, seeing himself as almost a third-person viewer, and almost laughed at how he managed to miss all the hints.

Meeting Cartman at the bar.

Leaving his phone at the bar where Cartman must have taken a peak and seen his Tinder app. 

Cartman seeing him drinking alone at Valentine’s day and deciding that this would be the perfect opportunity to humiliate him.

And he thought that Cartman might have matured. That in the years they spent apart, he might have become a slightly decent person.

Yet that was all make believe just like Gary, a person he had fabricated to get into his mind to break it. 

And what if he hadn’t met Gary? It was a fluke, a chance encounter. That was the reason he had missed all the signs- he wasn’t looking for them. There was no reason for Kyle to have suspected that this was going to happen. He imagined himself arriving at the Mexican restaurant ten minutes early because he couldn’t wait for the date just for Cartman to arrive instead of the person he had expected.

Dressed in his new clothes, Kyle would not believe Cartman at first. He would deny any involvement Cartman might have in in this.

Nevertheless, Cartman would continue to gloat, his loud voice booming through the restaurant so that all the patrons would be able to hear what was transpiring between them. With a smirk on his face, Cartman would call him a gullible Jew before departing the restaurant, leaving Kyle humiliated and heartbroken. He would hang his head in silence as he shuffled out, not even having enough energy left to shield himself from the pitying looks of the restaurant customers.

But it wouldn’t be like that. He was safe from that fate. The questions was what he would do about Cartman now. When he found the energy again, he started his car to drive back to South Park. He blasted him music, imagining scenarios and walking through what he could say and how he could handle himself. The mini plays helped calm him. He could do this. 

When he arrived home, he immediately called Butters. 

He parked his car in front of the apartment building complex next to the sidewalk where the two-tone grass had begun to grow. When Kyle had called Butters for the first time since high school, he was surprised and grateful to learn that he’d kept his number all through college and beyond. With a cheerful greeting, Butters answered the call and didn’t even hesitate to give out Cartman’s address, simply stating the street name and house number then asking what he needed it for. Kyle explained that he wanted to surprise Cartman with something and Butters, the gullible soul he was, accepted the unconvincing lie and wished him good luck.

That is how Kyle found himself in front of Cartman’s apartment, his anger flooding into his soul, pushing out the logic which screamed ‘BAD IDEA’. He was able to restrain himself long enough to politely knock on the door.

Nothing happens. 

Kyle frowns, then knocks again, deciding that this was more underwhelming than he built it up to be. 

It took about thirty seconds for Cartman to open the door.

“What the hell are you doing….”

But before Cartman could finish his question, Kyle’s fist connected with his face.

Stumbling back due to the force of the punch, Cartman was able to catch himself from landing on the floor.

“What the FUCK was that for, Jew?” Cartman spat, his words coming out muffled due to the hand shielding his face. It was stained red either from a broken nose or torn lips. Kyle entered the apartment fully and seeing the anger on his face Cartman had the good sense to back away. 

“You dare ask me what’s wrong? You set me up like this on another fucking mind game of yours, you bastard!”

When Cartman heard the words, his angry expression melted away, becoming a neutral mask of indifference.

“How did you figure it out?” 

Stunned, Kyle stopped in his approach. He expected a look of gloating; a smirk or a smug grin. It reminded him of how he was never able to predict Gary’s reactions either.

But then again that person never existed.

“I met Gary at a café, if that’s even his real name.”

There was a pause before Cartman mumbled out a soft ‘oh’. 

For a brief time, they stared at each other, both not daring to interrupt the moment of silence. Until Cartman lowered his eyes seemingly trying to explain his actions.

“Look I-“

“I just want to know why. I want nothing else from you. So, tell me- was it just to fuck with me? Did you decide that after nearly ten years of not screwing with me this had to be a grand thing? Your masterpiece?”

This effectively shut Cartman up and he slouched, his eyes trained on the floor.

Hot tears began to form in Kyle’s eyes. The bastard didn’t have the guts to tell him why he did it, fine, but he would not be seen crying in front of this coward, for god’s sake. He liked to believe he had some dignity left. Kyle tilted his head up to force the tears back before straightening his back and walking back through the still open door. Before he was able to step outside, Cartman put his hand on Kyle’s, effectively stopping him from taking off. It was not a forceful grip, but rather soft like a plea. 

“You know, all the things I wrote were true. Nothing was faked.”

Kyle could only muster a hollow laugh.

“Were they now? I wouldn’t really know. Do you get pleasure from that? Thinking that somebody like me could go for somebody like you?”

“Yes, Kyle I was fucking ecstatic when I figured out that you liked me back.”

Kyle tried to pull away, but Cartman tightened his grip.

“I heard that you broke up with your girlfriend when I talked to Kenny when we coincidentally met at a bar late at night. Usually we keep our conversations in small talk territory, but that night Kenny was too drunk to notice that all the questions I asked were about you. When you and I met at the bar and you went to the bathroom, your phone pinged. I peeked and noticed it was from Tinder. I knew I wanted to be with you, Kyle. I also knew that you would never voluntarily have anything to do with me. That’s why I created the account. To show you how well we fit together. That if all the crap didn’t happen in elementary school, you would give me a chance.”

Kyle had been standing still during the rest of the story and was slowly processing every detail. 

I asked about you.

I wanted to be with you. 

We fit together.

Give me a chance. 

Cartman was right. They were a good fit. Gary, no Cartman, had made his stomach flutter like no one else in a long time. But it had also been Cartman who manipulated him, instead of trusting Kyle to come to that realization on his own, leaving him feeling played and humiliated.

With that Kyle tore his arm away from Cartman and stomped out of the apartment. 

 

Kyle threw his things down on the floor, leaving a trail in his home as he made his way to the kitchen. The first thing he did was search for a bottle of wine he had hidden somewhere in one of his cardboards. It didn’t take long for him to pass out.

 

It was Kyle’s routine that kept his mind sane and his feelings from swallowing him whole. 

Wake up.

Work.

Go home. 

Drink.

Sleep. 

Occasionally he manages to make dinner. 

Occasionally he manages to make it to the bed instead of passing out on the couch. 

Stan and Kenny try to contact him several times, asking him why he doesn’t show up anymore. His excuse that work was swallowing up his time kept them both from prying. 

Cartman hasn’t tried to contact him since that incident. It’s relieving and disappointing at the same time, but more than anything it’s numbing. 

The weekend came by and Kyle found himself laying in his bed feeling utterly bored. His apartment needed a good cleaning, but he felt like all the energy had been drained out of his body. His lack of grocery shopping also meant that there was neither food nor alcohol in his apartment. But those things could all wait for another day. For now, he was content to stay indoors and laying down. Kyle rolled over letting the blood circulate back to the other side of his body. 

Kyle picked up his phone and his finger hovered over the Tinder button app. Nearly every night he wanted to delete the horrific app, but every night he couldn’t bring himself to do it. Against all his logic he opened it und read the conversation between Cartman and him. His eyes flew over the texts and he had to suppress the occasional chuckle. When he was done he began reading it a new. Kyle tried not to dwell on the fact that his only source of joy is the thing that caused all the pain in the first place. 

Every time he reread the conversation he stopped at a certain message before continuing.

We can’t just always dwell in the past. If you wish to live your life differently you can’t let yourself be stuck because it’s the safest way. You must stop seeing yourself as the victim and take matters into your own hands.

Even if it the circumstances weren’t real, the message alone held weight. His whole life Kyle had chosen the safe route, be it unconsciously or not. He had followed a certain path that would ensure him happiness, or the ever-changing idea of what happiness was. Cartman had been right. It wouldn’t have mattered that his former enemy had changed, how much they would have gotten along: Kyle would have never chosen him. It was simply too great a risk to get hurt, to disappoint somebody, be it his parents or his friends.

If there had ever been a time to be spurred to action, this was it. He grabbed his keys, started his car and made his way over to the guy he had rejected a week ago. The scenery blurred past as he drove, Kyle trying to figure out exactly what he could say without making himself sound dumb. He stood on the doorstep for a moment, then lifted his hand and knocked. 

Cartman opened the door mere moments after, as if he had been expecting somebody. His nose was considerately swollen as were his lips, but Kyle could see the skin slowly healing. They stood there, frozen, trying to process one another. There was a certain surprise in his eyes and, dare he say, hope? Before he could overanalyze everything, he passed Cartman and entered the apartment without an invitation. 

He opened his mouth several times, but to no avail. The words just wouldn’t form. Instead he started pacing through the whole apartment, going from one wall to the other. Cartman still stood in front of the door, dumbfounded, having at least the good sense to close the door, obviously learning from their last encounter.

For the next two minutes all that could be heard in the apartment were Kyle’s steps.

Getting impatient by Kyle’s silence, Cartman decided to say something.

“Kyle I-“

“Shut the fuck up. Just shut up, you do not get to talk.” Kyle growled, not even looking at Cartman, but still wandering from one side to the other.

For once in his life Cartman kept quiet.

After another two minutes of Kyle’s wearing tracks into the carpet, he finally stopped. He opened his mouth, the thoughts and emotions tumbling out at a furious pace, while keeping his gaze stubbornly at the wall to avoid meeting Cartman’s worried gaze.

“You know, this week has been hell. Every time I closed my eyes, every second I wasn’t occupied, I thought about you. I couldn’t even go to sleep without alcohol because my mind would always return to you. At first, I thought it was the anger maybe even the wish for revenge, but then I realized it was more than that.” Kyle took a breath and turned around, finally looking into Cartman’s eyes. “It took a while to realize that it was loneliness that caused the pain. And how pathetic it is to realize that only after somebody sent you a few text messages.”

Kyle’s steps were deliberate as he came closer to Cartman. He gave out a hollow laugh before continuing. “So, I decided that I’m tired of being alone and that I’m going to do something about it.”

He reached Cartman, his steps carrying a sense of purpose. Kyle slung his arms around Cartman’s neck and before the other boy could question him, kissed him.

The kiss wasn’t gentle by any means. 

It was hard, desperate, and full of longing. 

Cartman wouldn’t move a muscle, not wanting to break the magic, as though if he did his dream would burst. When he finally realized that yes, this was real, and yes, this was everything he wanted, he melted against Kyle, putting his hands on the boy’s waist.

Kyle reacted by pulling Cartman’s hair and then biting down on his injured lower lip. 

Cartman felt his wound reopening and tasted the stale bitterness of his blood. He understood the warning clearly.

Hurt me again and I will do worse than that.

He pulled Kyle’s body closer to his and slowed the kiss down, turning it more gentle than passionate and hoped that Kyle would also be able to understand his message.

I won’t.


End file.
